A Little Princess
by citigirl13
Summary: Vegeta informs Bra that she is, without a doubt, a princess.  Sweet moment between the two of them.


**So when I first began reading fanfiction, I exclusively read DBZ fics. More specifically, I read VEGETA fics. I always wanted to write a DBZ focussing on him – but I assumed my first one would be about the relationship between him and Bulma or him and Trunks. However, I recently heard the beloved quote below, and I really wanted to write a fic linking to it. How could I not write it about Bra? **

**Now this is my first DBZ fic, so please don't be too harsh on me. I tried to keep Vegeta in character, but I may have made him a little too soft. Anyway, I'll let you lot be the judge. **

**Enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Dragon Ball Z or any of the characters**

**xXx**

**A Little Princess **

"_**I am a princess. All girls are. Even if they live in tiny old attics; even if they dress in rags. Even if they aren't pretty, or smart, or young. They're still princesses..." **_

**Sara,**_** A Little Princess, **_**Frances Hodgson Burnett **

It was eleven o'clock, and the Briefs household was shutting down for the night. For once Vegeta was going to bed early – the blasted woman had convinced him not to have his nightly training session because he had worn himself out recently. Alright, so he had nearly caused the GR to explode, big deal – he was fine, only one part of the garden had set alight. But of course Bulma had screeched and blown a storm over his head. That hadn't moved Vegeta at all, until she had finally promised him an _exhilarating _evening.

As he walked down the hall, the Saiyan couldn't help but smirk. Bulma may annoy him and force him to do stupid domestic chores, such as picking the children up from school, and she was the only person on the planet that could honestly drive him up the wall – or rather, into it – but...he smirked. By Gods, she had the sex drive that could rival any Saiyan woman. They had sex three or four times a week, and not just at night. He grinned almost darkly and hurried down the hall.

He passed Trunks' room, listening in. Peeking in, he could see his lavender hair from the bed. Trunks' arms were sprawled above his head, his face calm and content. The teenager would normally be up much longer than eleven, but he'd had exams at school this week – and the two of them had trained particularly had this week. It was no wonder the boy was tired.

Vegeta watched Trunks sleep for a few more moments, feeling the calmness in his son's body flowing into him. Perhaps it had something to do with the mental connection. He chose to believe that rather than think that he was relaxed because he knew his son was safe. Quietly he closed the door.

Moving further down the hall, he paused outside his daughter's room. Usually he would be able to hear her even breathing, but tonight that sound was missing. It was only a soft sound, but the lack of it seemed to echo through the house.

Instead he could hear soft sniffs.

The prince's heart clenched. He was too old and had spent too much time on this planet to deny that he didn't adore his daughter. He loved the boy too, of course he did, but his daughter was different. Trunks could defend himself, but Bra... She was only six years old. Though she was already showing signs of her mother's fiery temperament, the little girl could often get upset about the littlest things. She had Capsule Corp turned upside down when she couldn't find her pink teddy bear (it had been, of all places, under her bed) simply by letting the tears slip down her cheeks, those blue eyes reminding him of a running river.

Vegeta did not show much affection. Sex was the way he showed affections towards Bulma, and by those standards you could say Vegeta was indeed very affectionate. The way he showed love to his children was to protect them from harm. Anyone who tried to hurt his children would have at least one broken bone in their body, and that was only if they were lucky. He clenched his fist just thinking about anyone hurting his daughter.

He opened the door and sure enough, Bra was awake. Usually she was deep asleep by this point, but now she was sitting up in bed. With his Saiyan eyesight he could already see the twinkle of tears on her cheeks.

Bra turned her head to Vegeta. "Daddy," she whimpered, and held up her hands.

Now Vegeta had been a killer. He wasn't, not anymore, but even so, he had been one of the most ruthless killers in the universe. But ever since his daughter was born he found that he could not refuse her anything. He lifted her into his arms. Bra began to sob into his shoulder, and Vegeta rubbed her back soothingly.

He let her cry for a little while to get it out her system before placing her back on the bed. She whimpered as he set her down, but this time Vegeta was firm. He loved his daughter but he would not spoil her; she had to be strong. "Now Bra," he said, looking down at her. "Why are you so upset?"

The little girl blinked, more tears appearing on her face. "I – I went to P-Pan's house today."

"And?" asked Vegeta, already not liking where this story was going.

"And...and she said that b-b-because the Saiyan planet doesn't exist anymore, I'm n-not a princess!" At this the girl burst into a fresh flood of tears.

The prince gritted his teeth. _Damn that girl. _He would really have to tell Gohan to teach his daughter he Saiyan heritage, otherwise he would take it upon himself to do so. And Vegeta wouldn't be gentle.

Vegeta bent down and waited for Bra to stop sobbing. "Listen to me Bra," he said. "I am only going to say this once." He looked his daughter square in the face. "You are a princess."

"But-"

He silenced his daughter with a raised hand. "I am the Prince of Saiyans, and you are my daughter. That makes you a princess. Just because our planet is destroyed-" _you better be burning in absolute a fiery hell Freeza _"-does not mean that we do not have royal blood. We will always have royal blood in our veins. Just because Pan says that you're not a princess doesn't mean that you're not – it just means she's jealous because you're a princess and she's just a third-class commoner."

For the first time Bra smiled, albeit a small one. "Does that mean I get to boss her about?"

_I knew you had more of your mother in you. _Vegeta smiled. "Of course. And do you know what else?"

Now Bra was leaning forward, eager. "What?"

Vegeta leant forward. "You're a _warrior _princess." With that he threw her in the air. The princess squealed in surprise and delight, but not at all terror. She was a warrior princess, after all; she wasn't scared of anything. She may have only been six, but she knew enough to know no harm would come to her with Vegeta around.

He caught her easily. "Feel better?" he asked his daughter.

Bra was smiling now, and though her face and eyes were still wet, there was no sign of new tears. "Yes." She leant forward with the courage of a Briefs woman and kissed her face on the cheek. "Thank you Daddy."

He tucked Bra into bed and closed her bedroom door. He waited for a few minutes before he heard her breathing slowly even out, when he knew that she was finally falling asleep. Vegeta moved down the hall, turning the corner – and almost colliding with a blue-haired vixen.

Bulma Briefs' eyes were twinkling. Vegeta froze. "How much did you hear?" he asked gruffly, hoping to maintain his regal posture.

When he saw that smile he knew there was no hope.

"Oh Vegeta," she said with a grin. "I never knew you had such a caring side. Well," she said, shrugging. "Okay I did. I guess I just hadn't expected you to be _this _caring."

The prince snorted. "Please," he scoffed. "Our royal blood was being threatened. I couldn't allow that."

"Yes, but you were gentle – this time. When a teenager called you _your highness _in a sarcastic tone you attacked him by the throat and nearly choked him to death. It was in the papers for weeks."

"Bra now knows that she is a princess, no doubt in her mind. It was my duty, not as a father, but as a prince. Now," he said, walking towards their bedroom. "I recall a certain promise you made to me..."

"Vegeta..." The prince turned round to face his mate. She smiled coyly at him. "Am I a princess?"

Vegeta smirked. "Please. You have no royal heritage whatsoever. You're lucky I see it fit you keep you around. After all," he said, his smirk growing wider as he nailed the finally nail in the coffin. "You're just a peasant."

"WHAT!" Vegeta walked to the bedroom, still smirking has he heard Bulma's footsteps behind him. "If you recall, _buddy_, you would have been homeless if it hadn't been for _me_. I didn't see a row of servants waiting to take you to your palace! And I'm the richest woman on the _planet_. I don't think that makes me a PEASANT!"

Vegeta quickened his pace slightly as he neared the bedroom. _It's going to be a good night. _


End file.
